


Partners In Crime

by orphan_account



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crime, America's Suitehearts names are used, Blood, Death, M/M, Murder, Sadism, There's kinda a death, Violence, all relationships except Pete and Patrick are pretty minor, killjoy names are used, kinda gorey, possibly sadism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-05-18
Packaged: 2018-03-20 08:12:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3643086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pete, Patrick, Joe, and Andy, are a crime group nicknamed the Youngbloods. Joe and Andy are more the behind-the-scenes guys, whereas Pete and Patrick are wanted criminals</p><p>(This was originally the Worst Nightmare series but I'm changing it to a chaptered work)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I had this idea while listening to Partner's In Crime by Set It Off ft. Ash Costello (That's where the title comes from) I recommend you listen to it!

Patrick walked into the store, the bell on the door chiming as he entered. A lady behind the counter smiled at him, and he pulled his sweater sleeves over his hands, before blushing and smiling back, and gripping the strap of his black messenger bag. He walked over to a shelf that had different guitar picks on display, and took note of the rest of the store, looking up from under his fedora and through his strawberry blonde hair. About ten other customers, the checkout girl, one camera, and a monitor. Perfect.

His head snapped up at the sound of the chiming bell. A man with brown hair, who was clearly Pete, his boyfriend, entered, but walked to a different area without acknowledging him. All part of the plan. The monitor mounted in the corner was playing the news, and the clerk turned up the volume.

" _The Young Bloods, the pair of criminals, have escaped custody yet again_ ," the anchorwoman said. " _These two have been known to hit smaller stores. We have been able to make rough sketches based on eye witness accounts. Here they are now_."

Patrick looked up, and saw two drawings that looked similar to him and Pete, except he had the sideburns and Pete had his old fringe in the images. Patrick had to bite his lip to keep from laughing in relief. Pete had been right, changing their appearances was a great idea.

" _These two are apparently dating, and very dangerous. They are known for taking hostages, and killing them mercilessly. Their crimes have been called 'almost like a work of art' by people who have been directly affected by these two men. They are known to use the aliases 'Mr. Sandman' and 'Doctor Benzedrine'_ , " the woman reported. " _Benzedrine and Sandman are believed to have two partners, who seem to be more behind-the-scenes type of allies. If you see them, please call the number on your screen_."

Patrick locked eyes with Pete, and nodded. The latter smirked and winked, before moving to lock the door to the shop. He pulled down the curtain, turned around, and pulled two hand guns out from under his jacket. Pete laughed, before firing a shot into the ceiling.

A few people screamed, and Patrick scoffed, before pulling the two parts of his gun out of his bag, and assembling it quickly. He tossed the bag to Pete.

"Thanks babe," the other smirked, before setting it on the counter. "Put the money in the bag."

"Or we will shoot," Patrick sing-songed.

"We're the Young Bloods, if you haven't guessed. Hello!" Pete told everyone cheerily. "Get on the ground," he smirked, pointing the gun at a woman who appeared to be in her early twenties. He whipped the other gun around, and shot the clerk in the hand. "Oh no that won't do! You can't call the police! That ruins all the fun!" He pouted, causing Patrick to giggle.

"You're adorable," he cooed, kissing his boyfriend.

"Ew, faggots," a teenage boy muttered. Patrick just laughed, before turning around and shooting the boy in the thigh.

"You shouldn't be homophobic to someone holding a gun, idiot," Patrick sassed.

Everyone was on the ground by this point, except for the clerk, who was emptying the contents of the register into the bag. Pete gestured for her to toss it to him, and she did, as Patrick pointed his gun at her.

"Oh no, there has to be more than this," he tutted.

"O-Only the manager can get it," she told him.

"So call them out here," Pete told her, in a mocking tone. She called for them, and there was a commotion from the back.

The store manager walked out from the back of the building, startling Pete, who turned around a shot him in the forehead with no hesitation.

"P - Sandman!" Patrick whined, nearly using his boyfriend's real name.

"Oopsy, he was supposed to live. Oh well," Pete muttered, shrugging. The woman he had threatened earlier had pulled out her phone. Pete shot it out of her hand. "No phones! Next person who pulls out a phone gets killed! Am I clear?" He shouted. They all nodded.

"You're sexy when you're angry," Patrick winked, smashing his lips to the brunette's.

"Mommy I'm scared," a little girl whispered to anther woman from the back corner of the store. Patrick strutted down the aisles towards her.

"Hiya sweetie!" He cooed, squatting down next to her. The girl cowered in fear. "Don't worry, I won't hurt you, okay? Just do as we say, make sure your mommy does too, and nothing will happen to either of you okay? I promise. Just promise me you'll do what we say."

"I-I promise," she whispered.

"Good," Patrick smiled, genuinely sweetly, before patting her head, and walking back to the front of the store, when he heard a gunshot.

"How fucking thick are you people?" Pete shouted. "No phones means no phones!" Patrick walked over to his partner, and placed a hand on his bicep, rubbing his arm slightly. A man of about thirty was lying in a pool of blood, a phone lying next to his limp hand. "Now, the issue of money, there's more. How do we get it?"

"Only the manager and the owner can get it," the clerk muttered.

"Is the owner here?" Patrick asked, pushing himself onto the counter and nonchalantly pointing his gun to her temple. She nodded frantically, and pointed to the back room where the manager came from.

"Lovely! Benzedrine, sweetie, go get him?" Pete called to Patrick, tossing him the bag. Patrick smiled sweetly and blew a kiss to Pete before practically skipping to the back room. A minute passed, before a loud scream could be heard. "Are you okay sweetheart?" Pete shouted.

"Yeah, don't worry! I just stabbed him!" Patrick called back. "He's a stubborn one, I think he's coming around!" Here was another blood curdling scream, followed by a sob. "I've got three more knives buddy! We can keep going!" Patrick threatened.

The owner pulled himself to his feet, and walked over to the safe, unlocking it. Patrick handed him the bag, and pointed the gun to his back, commanding him to fill it. The owner complied, emptying the safe, before handing the bag back to his captor. "Thanks for all your help!" Patrick told him, before shooting him.

" _Sir, are you still there? Sir? What was that gunshot? We've sent officers and ambulances, they're on the way_ ," Patrick heard a faint voice say. He dashed to the desk, and saw the owner had dialed 911. Patrick smashed the phone with the end of his gun. "Fuck! Sandman! The owner called the cops! We need to go!" He shouted, pulling his knives out of the man's shoulder blades, and running into the main section of the store.

"Shit," Pete muttered, before grabbing the bag Patrick threw to him, causing one of his guns to fly out of his hands in the process. It sailed towards the clerk, and she caught it, but before she could use it, Patrick whipped around and launched one of his knives out of his hand, causing it to pierce the woman's throat. "Nice throw sweetie," Pete praised.

"I've been practicing. We need to go, now," Patrick muttered, grabbing the knife. "Donnie the Catcher has the van pulled around, and Horse Shoe Crab is with him, he says the cops are almost here."

"Is there a back exit?" Pete questioned. Patrick nodded, intertwined their fingers, and led him towards the back room.

"Wait!" Patrick shouted. He turned to face the teen who called them faggots, and shot him in the stomach. "I'm not over the fag comment, you might live, maybe not. I hope you die painfully," Patrick spat, before running off, pulling his boyfriend behind him.

They ran out the back door and emerged in an alley. Sirens could be heard as police cars sped by. Pete pinned Patrick to the wall, and smashed their lips together, so the cars wouldn't see their faces. They pulled apart as the cars passed, and Patrick whispered, "Baby, I'm a little scared."

"Don't you quit, Trick, we'll make it out. They'll never take us alive," Pete whispered back, before kissing him sweetly. When the pulled back again, he handed his boyfriend a cyanide pill, just in case. Pete locked their hands together and took off running pulling Patrick behind them. Andy and Joe, 'Donnie the Catcher' and 'Horse Shoe Crab' respectively were waiting in the getaway van a block away. Pete sprinted as quick as he could down the rather empty street. He wasn't able to keep ahold of Patrick's hand.

Patrick was having trouble breathing, no surprise. What chubby guy like him would be able to run as quick as a former soccer star?

"Come on! Almost there!" Pete encouraged, as the back door to the van slid open. Joe was standing there with his arm out, as Andy started it up. Pete jumped into the van next to him, and turned around, to see Patrick fifteen feet away. "Come on Benzedrine!"

" _Stop_!" A cop shouted through a bullhorn, as three cars raced around the corner.

"Shit," Pete muttered, before grabbing one of his guns and loading it. He handed it to Joe, who pointed it at the car and fired. Pete opened his arms for Patrick, who was getting closer.

"Put your weapons down! Put your weapons down!" The cops shouted. "Ready men!" The S.W.A.T. Team loaded their guns and aimed at Patrick who leapt into Pete's arms, knocking him back into the van. "FIRE!" Was shouted, just as Joe finished sliding the van's door shut.

Bullets were hitting the van, but thank god the guys at their base of operations were able to afford bullet proof glass for the windows and windshield, and the shell of the vans they had were bulletproof as well. Andy slammed his foot on the pedal, and they sped forward. Joe leapt into the passenger seat, leaving Pete and Patrick in the seatless back of the van. The strawberry blonde was lying with his face buried in Pete's chest, squishing his glasses. The brunette had wrapped his arms around his boyfriend's middle as tightly as he could, and had squeezed his eyes shut. Patrick slowly released the death grip he had on Pete's black T-shirt, before looking his partner dead in the eyes.

"We made it out," he breathed in relief, before laughing. "We did it," he beamed, before smashing their lips together, not caring that their noses bumped awkwardly. Pete deepened the kiss, sliding his mouth against Patrick's perfectly.

"Okay guys, stop now please, my eyes are burning!" Joe whined. The two pulled apart and laughed.

"Oh please, like you two don't spend your time waiting making out," Pete teased, tilting his head backwards to look at Joe.

"Actually we don't, because we can both keep it in our pants while we're in public," Andy teased.

"It's hard to do that when Trick's so adorable," Pete whined. Patrick rolled off of him, and sat leaning against the back of Joe's seat. Pete flopped down, laying his head in his boyfriend's lap.

"Some kid called us faggots," Patrick sighed.

Pete just burst out laughing, "Yeah and Patrick shot him. Twice. Then told him he hoped he died a painful death."

Andy and Joe both burst out laughing, and Patrick blushed. "Well it was rude!" He defended.

"So - so you shot him?" Joe laughed.

"He was rude. I had a gun. Simple math," Patrick shrugged. Pete chuckled, before propping himself up in his elbows and kissing Patrick gently.

"It was very sexy," Pete whispered seductively. Patrick blushed again, and Pete just went back to laying in Patrick's lap.

~~**~~

They went back to their base, which they shared with their other comrades, nicknamed the Killjoys. They entered the main room, which had the doors leading off to the other rooms of their underground tunnel system, that was virtually undetectable.

"Yo Pete!" Ray, also known as Jet Star, called, rushing over to them. "Pat! Joe! Andy! You guys made it back!" He beamed.

"Yeah we did man," Joe laughed. Ray and Joe's friendship was something special, they mainly bonded over their afros.

"Sweet! Aye! Gee! They're back!" Ray shouted.

'Gee', known as both Gerard and Party Poison, came rushing over, followed by his boyfriend Frank, or Fun Ghoul. "Hey, welcome back Young Bloods," Gerard chuckled.

"Hey man!" Pete grinned, "Where's Mikey at?"

"Of course you want to know," Patrick grumbled, before storming off. "I'm going to get some sleep," he spat out, slamming the door.

"Trick! Come on Patrick!" Pete called after him. "Tell Kobra Kid I said hello," Pete muttered, before rushing out after his boyfriend, who had disappeared. Pete sighed, and followed him to their shared bedroom. Patrick knew all the short cuts Pete didn't, so by the time he made it to the room, ten minutes had passed.

Upon entering, he saw Patrick curled up in the middle of their bed, wearing one of Pete's oversized hoodies, his hat and glasses on the table next to him. The hoodie was a message to Pete, letting him know that Patrick wasn't all _that_ mad.

Pete crawled into the bed behind Patrick, and wrapped his arms around him from behind.

"Go away," Patrick grumbled.

"No," Pete insisted, kissing the back of Patrick's neck. The latter sighed happily, Pete knowing exactly how to make him melt. "What's wrong?"

"Do you still have feeling for Mikey?" He sighed.

"Patrick, of course I don't," Pete told him sincerely. "That was three years ago."

"I know," Patrick sighed.

"I love _you_ Patrick," Pete told him.

"I love you too," Patrick told him, before turning onto his other side to face Pete. He buried his face into the latter's chest. "We should lay low for a while, we almost didn't make it out today." Pete loved this Patrick, the Patrick that was too kind and caring and sweet to be a murderer. The one that looked out for their best interests. He was so different from the façade he put on while they were committing crimes.

"Yeah, you and I really should. The others will probably agree. Beckett should let us," Pete agreed. 'Beckett', or William Beckett, was the co-founder of their organization, along with his husband, Gabe Saporta. ("Literally everyone's gay!" Pete would always tell them. "I mean, me and Trick, Joe and Andy, Gerard and Frank, Ray and Mikey, Bilvy and Gabe, literally everybody!" They always had to remind him that just because their group and the leaders were gay, didn't mean everyone in the organization was.)

The organization they worked for consisted of fifty people, spread throughout different cities. These eight were stationed in the city William and Gabe lived in, Chicago. Not all fifty committed crimes, many were just behind the scenes. And no matter how sadistic they all seemed, it was for great causes. Half the money they stole went to keeping the organization running, while the other half was donated to children's cancer funds, and other charities. Pete always jokes about them being present day Robin Hoods, and they kind of were.

"You get some sleep," Pete told Patrick. "I'll text Joe and have him tell Bill we need some time off, since Joe is reporting-in today's robbery."

Patrick's eyes fluttered shut and he soon fell asleep. Pete sent the text, kissed his boyfriend's forehead, and drifted off as well.


	2. Bad Guy

"GUYS WE'RE BACK!" Mikey, Kobra Kid, shouted, returning to the bunker the Young Bloods and Killjoys lived in.

"How much did you guys get?" Pete asked.

"One hundred," Gerard answered.

"That's it?" Pete replied, face falling.

"One hundred thousand!" Gerard beamed. Pete's face lit up like a kid's on Christmas. "Fifty for us, fifty for the organization.

"OH MY GOD WE DID IT!" Pete shrieked.

"Is this about Bronx?" Patrick asked.

"Yeah! We've got enough for the little dudes treatment!" Pete shouted. Bronx was Pete's son. He was six years old, Pete being 28 (going on 5 if we're being honest), and had been diagnosed with leukemia when he was only two. Pete and his ex-wife of five years had had Bronx when they were both 22, before Pete joined the organization.

_It was the worst day of Pete's life. No parent wanted to hear that their two year old son had leukemia and could easily die soon. The doctors admitted Bronx to the hospital that day, and Pete left the room his son would be in, promising to be back soon._

_Pete made his way to the parking lot and sat on the curb, biting his nails and trying not to cry._

_Gabe will know what to do, he thought. The brunette pulled out his phone and pressed the contact for his best friend._

_"Hey Peter!" Gabe answered cheerily._

_"H-Hey G-Gabe," Pete forced out._

_"What's wrong amigo?" Gabe asked._

_"Bronxie has...he was just diagnosed with leukemia Gabe," Pete sobbed out._

_"Damn. Oh god Pete, are you at the hospital? Bilvy and I have wanted to offer you something for a while now, and I think it's the perfect time to do it now," Gabe told him._

_"I'm not having a threesome with you," Pete joked weakly._

_"Ha ha," Gabe replied sassily. "We'll be there in two minutes."_

_"I'm in the parking lot," Pete sighed back._

_Two minutes later, Gabe's sleek black car arrived, and he and William got out. "Hey man, I'm sorry," Bill told him, sitting next to him. Gabe sat on the other side and they both put and arm around him._

_"Thanks guys," Pete sniffled._

_William rubbed his back gently before speaking, "We want to talk to you about an organization we run..."_

_A year later and Pete was assigned to his first group along with Gerard and Mikey Way, two other, newer recruits. Mikey and Pete had been dating for about a month, much to Gerard's disliking, but it didn't seem like it would be working out._

_"Pete, look man, I don't think it's working out too well between us," Mikey told him a month into the new assignment, echoing his thoughts._

_"It might be better if we stay friends," Pete agreed._

_Even though he agreed to it wholeheartedly, he still cried. "Hey Pete - what's wrong?" Patrick, one of the members of the group asked._

_"Nothing really. Well...Mikey and I agreed we shouldn't date anymore, but it still hurts," Pete told him._

_"Oh...well I'm sorry man, that can be rough," Patrick replied, scratching his sideburn slightly._

_Pete laughed at the younger man, "Yeah it can be. You're...18 right?"_

_"I'm 20," Patrick huffed, pulling his knit beanie further down over his hair._

_"Oh...sorry dude," Pete replied._

_Another year went by, and Pete and Patrick were being sent out to rob places more and more, starting with not killing anybody before eventually just doing what they had to do._

_On the night of one of their more successful raids, they both had the usual brush with death that would always turn Pete into quite the adrenaline junkie. "WE MADE IT RICKSTER!" He shouted at Patrick once the two were back into the main room of the base._

_"Yeah we did!" Patrick screamed back, plopping down onto one of the couches. Andy and Joe just rolled their eyes before going off to bed. The Killjoys were doing work in another city for the week, so Patrick and Pete were alone. Pete was beaming more than usual after a raid, and of course, Patrick noticed. "What's up? It can't just be adrenaline," Patrick asked._

_"Well you know my son, Bronx? I've told you about him, right?" Pete asked, sitting next to the other man. He pulled his legs to his chest as he faced Patrick._

_"Yeah," Patrick replied, shaking his head when Pete offered him a beer._

_"Right, well I get to visit him in two days and I'm super fricking excited! And Gabe told me he's now one of the top five on the list of kids the money goes too!" Pete grinned._

_"That's awesome Pete!" Patrick told him, smiling widely. Pete giggled, and set his own beer down, before moving so he was sitting on Patrick's lap, facing him with one leg on either side of his hips. Patrick flushed red as Pete draped his arms loosely around Patrick's neck. "Uh...what are you doing," Patrick gulped._

_"Dunno Trick," Pete muttered. "Something I should've done a while ago," he whispered, staring straight at Patrick's mouth, before leaning forward and brushing his own lips against the strawberry blonde's. Patrick gasped, before winding his hands into Pete's dark brown hair, and kissing back eagerly._

_"P-Pete," Patrick moaned, pulling away. "W-Why?"_

_"I love you Patrick," Pete told him. Patrick's heart melted at those four words._

_"I love you too Pete," he replied, before smashing their lips together. This kiss was far from innocent like the last one; it was a collision of tongues and teeth and just Pete and Patrick loved it. He pulled away giggling, and Pete laughed as Patrick's was contagious to him._

"Pete?" Pete heard, snapping him back to the present day. He turned around and saw Patrick standing behind him, eyebrows raised.

"Huh? Oh, sorry, I zoned out a bit. How'd we get in here?" He asked, looking around and noticing they were in their room.

"You walked," Patrick laughed. "I could tell you had zoned out though, so I made sure you didn't hit any walls or anything. What were you thinking about?"

"The night of our first kiss," Pete admitted. "And...what happened after that. When I took your virginity," Pete smirked.

"Stoooop!" Patrick whined.

"No! It's so adorable!" Pete laughed.

"It's embarrassing! I was a 21 year old virgin!" Patrick huffed, crossing his arms. Pete just rolled his eyes lovingly, before leaning forward and pecking Patrick's lips.

"So what?" Pete told him, sliding his hands into the back pockets of Patrick's skinny jeans.

"You're amazing, you know that?"

Patrick blushed, before unfolding his arms and draping them over Pete's shoulders. The latter moved his hands to around Patrick's waist and pulled him closer, swaying the two of them back and forth. "What are you doing?" Patrick giggled.

"Dance with me?" Pete asked, grinning down at his boyfriend. Patrick laughed and nodded. The taller man grinned, before putting his phone on its speakers and pressing playing his music. Pete walked over to his boyfriend and took one of Patrick's hands in his own. The other went to his waist as Patrick rest his right hand on Pete's shoulder. 

" _Wise men say, 'only fools rush in' but I, can't help falling in love with you_ ," the music sang from Pete's speakers.

"Is that the Tyler Joseph cover?" Patrick laughed.

"I couldn't find the Elvis one, okay?" Pete defended, chuckling.

" _Shall I stay? Would it be a sin? If I can't help falling in love with you_?" Patrick sang quietly. Pete tightened his grip on Patrick's hand, before spinning him and pulling him back to his chest again. Patrick sang the rest of the song as they danced together in their room, not a care in the world.

~~**~~

"I'd put your hands up if I were you," a voice snarled in Pete's ear. He, Patrick, Gerard, and Ray, after the first two had changed their looks again the night previous, had decided to go to a bar, and some group of three guys had dragged Pete into an alley. Pete did as he was told, putting his hands onto his newly pink hair. "Good," the voice laughed. He was the leader, or so Pete guessed. "What's your name cutie?" The man asked, kissing up his neck.

"Alex," he lied.

"Well Alex, my friends and I are going to have fun with you and then --" the leader started.

"YOU'RE NOT GOING TO FUCKING TOUCH HIM!" Pete heard a familiar voice snarl. They all turned and saw Patrick standing there, his bleached hair reflecting the dim light. Gerard and Ray were behind him.

"And what is a tiny little child like you gonna do?" Another man laughed. Patrick smiled sweetly, before tackling the man into a dumpster. Another attacker pulled Patrick off the first, but the short blonde quickly recovered. He regained his balance and roundhouse kicked the guy who pulled him square in the jaw. Gerard and Ray ran forward and took two of the other guys, while Patrick continued to fight two at once. Pete head butted the guy who had him pinned to the wall at the same time he kneed him in the crotch. The guy groaned and collapsed. Patrick had knocked one of the guys out, and was straddling the other's chest, delivering punch after punch to his face. "Don't. Fucking. Touch. My. Boyfriend!" He panted, punctuated each word with a punch. The man groaned, and Patrick pulled out a dagger. He lifted it over the man's chest, but Pete grabbed his wrists before he killed the guy.

"Hey, stop. It's not worth it," he told his boyfriend. "Give me the knife." Pete slowly removed his hands, and Patrick almost gave him the knife. Almost.

"It is worth it," he muttered, before driving the knife down into the man's chest.

"Shit, we need to go," Gerard said, pulling Patrick back off the man and to his feet before the four friends ran off, away from their attackers. As they were running they heard the sirens.

"Fuck keep running!" Pete screamed, as they headed towards one of their cars, one that had the spider-logo of the Killjoys on it. ("WE BROUGHT THE FUCKING KILLJOY CAR?" Pete shouted. "THAT'S PROBABLY WHY THE COPS ARE HERE YOU IDIOTS!") Gerard and Ray hopped into the front seats and Pete and Patrick into the back. Gerard sped off, but the police were still behind them. Pete handed a gun he acquired from the bag under the seat to both Patrick and Ray. "Just incase," he muttered. Patrick squeezed his hand tightly, before loading his gun.

"And this, is how we disappear," Gerard smirked, before driving into one of the tunnel systems Gabe invented for them to use if they ever needed to lose the police.

After two minutes of going through the tunnels, the sirens disappeared. "Nice job, Gerard," Ray told him.

"Why thank you," Gerard answered in a British accent.

"Put on the radio," Pete whined. Gerard rolled his eyes but did it anyway.

"Ew it's the news --" Gerard started, moving to change it.

"WAIT!" Ray shouted grabbing his hand. "Listen." He turned it up so everyone could hear it clearly.

" _Gabe Saporta and William Beckett, now Saporta as the two are apparently married, are wanted on the charge of running the biggest crime ring in the nation. You heard right folks, the nation. They have a network of criminals working for them, ranging anywhere from fifteen to two-thousand in various cities. The couple had escaped their apartment here in Chicago right before police arrived. They left a note which states, 'You don't know what you're talking about. The police are clueless. We're trying to help.' The two have countless murders under their names and will be put to death if found_ ," the reported stated.

"Oh fuck!" Pete screamed. "What did they do?"

"Who knows but they're probably -- HOLY SHIT!" Gerard shouted, swerving the car and stopping abruptly. They were still in the tunnels, close to the exit. Gerard threw his door open, grabbed his yellow gun, and jumped out. "GABE? BILL?" He shouted. "WHAT THE FUCK? I nearly hit you guys!" The sirens from earlier suddenly got louder, and the back door was flung open and William and Gabe jumped in, landing on Pete, before Gerard got back into his seat and sped off.

" _We are getting word that members the Killjoys and the Youngbloods, two prominent crime groups in this city, were seen together. The police are speculating that the two are allies. I'm now being told that Saporta and Beckett were spotted hopping into the back of a car containing the members by the names of Party Poison, Jet Star, Dr. Benzedrine, and Mr. Sandman. These two groups may be sub-divisions of what has now been titled the Worst Nightmare Crime Ring, as they may just be this country's worst nightmare_ ," the reporter on the radio continued.

Gabe was sitting on Pete's lap as there weren't enough seats. William had shifted into the middle of the back seat, now squishes between Patrick and Pete.

"You're a fucking idiot," Pete growled. "What the fuck did you do?"

"Well _amigo_ I may or may not have tried to recruit an undercover cop," Gabe admitted, scratching he back of his head.

"You did what?" Ray shouted.

"Oops..?" Gabe supplied. "But we need to stay with you guys."

"What did that note mean?" Gerard asked.

"The cops and governors and shit are corrupted. They keep killing innocent people and funneling money from hospitals to their own private, personal bank accounts. I have proof too! And that's what this organization was for, to replace the money they were taking. They were giving it to all the places you've been, the places that don't need it. Vic and Kellin are trying to take down the bank they're undercover at here in the city. I got the proof from them. The rest of Vic's group, Pierce the Veil or PTV, and Kellin's group, Sleeping With Sirens or SWS, are holding the information. PTV is planning a raid on the bank," Gabe told them.

"Well, it looks like we have a lot of planning to do," Pete replied.


	3. Addicted To You

Vic Fuentes knocked on the wall separating his cubicle from his friend Kellin Quinn's as he leaned around it. Kellin did the same, and Vic pointed to the clock above their head. Kellin smirked, as it was nearly five o'clock, and time for them to leave.

"Hold on! Don't pack up yet!" Hubert Smalls, the manager of their bank told them. He made some whole speech that Vic tuned out until he heard his name. "Vic, I want you and Kellin to stay tonight to make sure everything is ready for the second quarter!" He finished off his speech, before everyone but the two left.

"Fucking Smalls man," Kellin groaned.

"What an ass," Vic agreed. "Oh Bill texted us. He wants us to check the records of money transfers here, he says he's suspicious of Smalls."

"Give me a second to hack in," Kellin sighed. A minute later he gasped, and jumped up and on top of the wall slightly. "Come check this out holy shit!" He exclaimed. Vic walked around to his cubicle and looked at what he was gesturing to on the screen. "Smalls owes about two million dollars to the Haven Bank of Switzerland. That two million was coming from the taxes of the people in the city, but it's gone." Kellin pressed a few more buttons on his keyboard, before gasping again. "That shithead stole all the money and transferred it into his personal bank account!"

"What an ass!" Vic shouted. "That money could be used for so much more."

"Look where most of it's coming from though." Kellin pointed to the name on the screen. G. Saporta. "Dude he's funneling money from Gabe's account!"

"Fuck. I'm gonna go call Gabe and make sure he knows. He'd been suspicious of Smalls for the past year," Vic told him before walking off. He ran back two minutes later. "Gabe wants us to plan a raid to get his money back. He wants us to give some to the people here and the rest goes to him and the organization. PTV's heading this case, but he wants you to help as well."

~~**~~

"Welcome to Casa de Killjoys!" Gerard exclaimed, throwing open the door to the base of the Killjoys and Youngbloods.

"And the Youngbloods you ass," Pete said, smacking the back of his head.

"Oh you guys are okay!" Mikey shouted, running over to his brother and hugging him tightly. He then moved onto Ray and kissed his boyfriend gently. Mikey pulled away and hugged Pete and Patrick at the same time.

Joe, Andy, and Frank entered the main room, and were taken aback by Gabe and William's presence. Patrick quickly explained to them what happened in the tunnels.

"Vic contacted me about Hubert Smalls stealing about two million dollars from me. That two million was being transferred from my account to the Haven Bank of Switzerland, where an ally of ours was then going to transfer it into an untraceable account and wire the money back here to the local hospital," Gabe told them. "PTV, with the help of Kellin is going to be breaking into his safe and getting my money back. Then we're gonna send them and SWS personally to Switzerland to complete that transaction, because apparently Jaime can fly a plane. Also I told them to scare the shit out of Smalls to have some fun."

"Perfect," Frank replied.

"Yeah," William said before yawning.

"There's a spare room for you guys down here," Patrick said, taking Pete's hand and leading the other two towards their room.

~~**~~

"You guys know the plan, right?" Vic asked Jaime, Tony, and Mike. All three nodded, and Vic and Kellin put on their sunglasses, before heading into the bank. The other three pulled up their hoods and their bandanas over their mouths, before loading their guns and running into the building.

~~**~~

Patrick had fallen asleep on the couch in the main living area, and was awoken at three in the morning by Gabe's cell phone ringing. The latter had left it in the main room instead of taking it into his with him. The bleach blonde groaned, before seeing the caller ID said 'Vic'. He answered it, starting off with, "Gabe's phone, Patrick speaking. It's three a.m. and the idiot left his phone out here. What's up Vic?"

"Yo man!" Vic called through the phone. "Wake up all the guys, they'll want to hear this!"

"Give me a second," he sighed, standing up and cracking his back. Their base has a PA system with speakers in each room. Patrick pressed the button and yelled, "WAKE UP MOTHER FUCKERS! VICTORIA FUENTES HAS NEWS FOR US! GET YOUR ASSES INTO THE MAIN ROOM!" into the speaker. The nine others trudged into the room, all looking extremely pissed at him for waking them up. "Gabe I answered your phone cuz I saw it was Vic, he wants you to put it on speaker." Patrick tossed the device to the sleepy Hispanic.

"You're on speaker dude," Gabe yawned into the phone.

"We've got the money back bitches!" Vic shouted. "We're at the airport in Miami right now!"

"At two a.m. your time?" Pete questioned.

"Hell yeah at two a.m. bitch!" Vic laughed. "Alright Jaime's bitching at me cuz we're about to take off. I'll call you guys once we land in Switzerland. Later!"

They all chorused back their goodbyes and Gabe hung up. "Well that's good," he said. "Now everyone go back to sleep." Pete walked over to Patrick and took his hand, before leading the blonde back into their bedroom.

~~**~~

Three hours later, the two were awoken by shouting. Pete groaned and rolled off the mattress, and ran into the man room, followed by a half asleep Patrick.

"Dammit!" Gabe shouted.

"What's going on?" Pete yawned.

"PTV and SWS got delayed in Switzerland," Gabe growled. "Oh, and there's an even more corrupt secret addition to the government that's after them."

"How do you know that even exists?" William asked through a mouth full of PopTart.

"Cuz Pete and I used to work for them. They're screwed, we need to go Switzerland and help them," Gabe replied. "I have a plane and allies who can sneak us into the airport and fly us out for free and with out being caught. But we need a pilot. Anyone know how to fly a plane?"

"I can!" Frank grinned.

"When'd you learn that?" Gerard gaped at him.

"Ex-military pilot at your service," Frank laughed, mock saluting.

"Pack your shit, bitches, we're going to Switzerland," Gabe grinned.

~~**~~

"Pete, mi hermano, have you got the weapons?" Gabe asked, sliding his sun glasses on. Each of them was dressed in black with similar glasses, and Patrick had his fedora. Not suspicious at all.

"Yup, I've got my hand guns, Trick's gun and knives, Andy's weird whippy things, Joe's machine gun, and all the Killjoy blasters," he replied, digging through the bag. "Oh and a shit ton of amo."

"Good, let's go," Gabe told them, jogging towards his friend.

"Gabriel Saporta," a voice chuckled.

"Vicky-T," Gabe grinned. The woman smirked and led them to the plane. "Frank over there's my pilot."

"Nice, you guys good to go?" Vicky-T asked.

They all nodded and she led them onto the plane, before waving and running back into the airport. The plane was a private jet style plane, with enough couches and tables up front and rather secluded seats in the back.

Patrick yawned and walked towards the back, mumbling 'I'm going to take a nap and I swear to god if any of you wake me up before we hit Switzerland I'll stuff a fucking flute up your ass'. Pete chuckled and followed him to the back and drew the curtains shut. Patrick pulled him tight against his chest immediately. Pete noticed he was shaking and could feel tears fall into his shoulder.

"Trick sweetheart what's wrong," Pete asked softly, pulling back and cupping Patrick's face in his hands.

"I-I just have a bad f-feeling about this. I don't want to lose you," he whimpered.

"Don't worry, it'll be okay," Pete assured him, wiping his tears away. "Get some sleep, okay?" Patrick nodded and sat down on one of the chairs and opened his arms out to Pete. The latter grinned and sat next to him, before letting Patrick put his arms around him. Patrick fell asleep with a small smile on his face.

~~**~~

"You guys ready?" Gabe asked them all once they were ten minutes away from landing. They all nodded and shifted with their weapons. "Okay so, PTV and SWS are right outside. Let's go." They all left the plane, and were instantly at gunpoint.

"Shit," William spat.

"Hey guys," Vic said sheepishly, before getting a gun pressed into his head farther.

"Well if it isn't Gabe and Pete," a man smirked.

"Fuck," Gabe muttered.

"Language Gabe," the man tutted, pointing his gun right at Pete's stomach.

"What do you want?" Gabe growled.

"Pete. We want Pete. And we want him dead," the man said. "He learned too much working with us."

"Well that's cliche," Pete sassed. "Besides, I didn't learn shit."

"Oh, you really did," the man laughed. "We kill Pete, and the rest of you get to leave. We actually love your organization, just not who's in it."

"No," Gabe told him.

"You don't have a choice, you can't stop me!" The guy told him.

"You'll have to go through me first," Patrick growled, stepping closer to Pete and gripping his bicep.

"And the rest of us," Frank told him, pointing his blaster right at the man's head. The rest of them drew their weapons, but they were knocked out of their hands immediately by the men and women around them.

Patrick tightened his grip on Pete's bicep, and turned to look at him with huge, terrified eyes. "It'll be okay," Pete whispered, before his eyes went wide and his jaw dropped.

"Goodbye Peter," the man smirked before he and the rest of his people left the landing strip.

"He had a silencer oh fuck," Gabe swore.

"No no Pete!" Patrick shouted, catching his boyfriend as he fell. Patrick sunk down so he was sitting on the pavement and was cradling him on his lap. "Pete come on you'll be okay." Pete weakly wiped away some of Patrick's tears as Patrick brushed his freshly dyed black hair out of his eyes.

"T-Trick," he croaked, before coughing and blood trickled out of his mouth.

"Pete come on stay with me," Patrick begged, sobbing. Pete's eyes fluttered and his breathing got quicker and more uneven. "Pete please!" He sobbed.

"I love you Patrick," Pete cried.

"No don't --" he cut himself off. "Don't talk like that. Please."

"I-I'm a goner Patrick," Pete told him with a slight smile. Patrick hastily wiped the pink haired man's tears away. "P-Please just say it back. I-I wanna hear it o-one more t-time."

"I--" a gut wrenching sob cut him off. "I love you Pete," he cried out. Pete grinned, before going limp in Patrick's arms. "No, no Pete! Pete please!" He shouted, shaking the other man. "I love you, you can't -- please!"

"Patrick," Andy whispered, stepping forward and placing a hand on Patrick's shoulder.

"He's -- he's gone," Patrick whispered. The shock set in, and the last thing e remembered was the ground rushing up at him as he blacked out.


	4. I Miss You

When Patrick regained consciousness, he was back in his room in their bunker-like headquarters. Patrick groaned and rolled over in the bed, expecting to see Pete to cuddle up to, but the bed was empty.

_What? Where's -- oh_ , he realized. Pete was gone. Pete was gone. After the sudden realization hit him, he started sobbing and gripped his hair, before he heard the door open. Gabe walked in and sat next to Patrick on the bed.

"Patrick hey," he said softly. "I know it hurts man. Can you come out into the main room for a second, we need to tel you something."

"O-Okay," he cried.

"Patrick don't get mad," William started as Patrick wiped his eyes and managed to stop crying.

"What?" He asked.

"Pete's not dead," Gabe told him.

"...nice try Saporta," he spat at Gabe. "I watched him bleed out in -- in my arms."

"Fake. It was all fake," Gabe told him. "We knew that guy wanted him dead, and wouldn't stop until he did. But we don't know why. Do you really think I would let one of my best friends die and be this okay with it?"

"Prove it," Patrick snarled, crossing his arms.

"Is this enough proof?" A voice that made Patrick freeze commented. He whipped around to see Pete standing there. "Hey Trick."

"You planned this, didn't you?" He yelled at Gabe, who just nodded. Patrick screamed and leapt at the taller man, grabbing his shirt collar and throwing him against the wall. "WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT TO DO THAT TO ME? HOW WOULD YOU HAVE FELT IF IT WAS WILLIAM, HUH? HOW WOULD YOU HAVE FELT SEEING THE FUCKING LOVE OF YOUR LIFE BLEED OUT IN YOUR ARMS AND THEN SOMEONE YOU THOUGHT YOU TRUSTED JUST TELLS YOU IT WAS ALL A JOKE? YOU COULD'VE TOLD ME!" He let go of Gabe as more tears spilled out onto his cheeks. He whirled around to face everyone else. "YOU ALL KNEW, DIDN'T YOU? DIDN'T?" They all nodded slowly. "I SERIOUSLY CAN'T BELIEVE YOU! ALL OF YOU!" Arms wrapped around him from behind -- Pete. "FUCK OFF YOU ASSHOLE!" He shouted, spinning around and punching Pete in the jaw. "I FUCKING HATE YOU!" He shouted, sinking to the floor and sobbing into his knees.

Pete didn't take it to heart, as he knew whenever Patrick was angry, he lashed it against the person he loved the most. It always happened, it was just they way he dealt with it. The black haired man just say next to him and wrapped his arms around him.

"LET GO OF ME!" Patrick shrieked, borderline hysterical. "DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME!" Pete didn't let go, even when Patrick started hitting him. Eventually he stopped and just sobbed into Pete's shoulder. "Why didn't you tell me?" He whimpered.

"I'm so sorry," Pete whispered.

~~**~~

Patrick was sitting on their bed later that night, in sweatpants and one of his black hoodies, with his legs pulled to his chest and his chin on his knees. "How'd you do it?" He quietly asked Pete, the first thing he'd said the whole hour they'd been in there.

"Bullet proof vest and a fake blood packet under my shirt. And one of those fake blood things in my mouth that I bit into," Pete replied.

"How'd you know he wouldn't go for your head?"

"He would've wanted you to see me die slowly," Pete gulped.

"...Oh," Patrick muttered.

"Patrick--"

"I still love you a lot," Patrick told him. "And I'm not breaking up with you, I just...need tonight to be alone, okay?"

"Okay." Patrick grabbed a pillow and a blanket and walked to the door, but paused in the doorway.

"I love you, Patrick," Pete choked out.

"I know, I love you too. And...you can keep calling me all of those nicknames. I...I would' r missed them. It's weird to hear you call me 'Patrick' all the time," he laughed slightly before going into the main room and laying down on the couch.

Three hours later, it was about one am, and Patrick couldn't sleep. He sighed, and rolled over onto his stomach. Yeah, he wasn't going to get any sleep. He sighed again, before grabbing the pillow and blanket, before making his way back to his shared room with Pete. The latter was fast asleep, sprawled out on his back. Patrick smiled slightly, before placing his things on the floor ms crawling into the bed under the blankets. He draped an arm over Pete's stomach and lay his head on the black haired man's chest. Pete's heart was beating strongly against his ear, and he smiled, and his last thought before falling asleep was _he's alive._


	5. Beat It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made the Worst Nightmare series into a chaptered work and this is it 
> 
> This is short but important

Pete woke up with a lump on him. Patrick. What the hell? He was on the couch though...guess not. Patrick yawned and curled closer to Pete before blinking his eyes open. "Hey," Pete whispered.

"I couldn't sleep," Patrick told him before crawling off the bed. "Sorry."

"It's okay Trick," Pete told him.

"I'm not mad anymore though..." He muttered. Pete grinned at him, before climbing off the bed and starting to get dressed. "Well no I'm still pissed," Patrick admitted. "But I guess not that mad? I don't really know. We have hand-to-hand training so hurry up," and with that Patrick was gone.

Pete hated combat training. They had guns, who did they need to know hand-to-hand? He could throw a punch, and was pretty damn good at it, but Gabe insisted. He ran into Mikey on his way to the gym and they walked together, talking about random, insignificant things. They were the last two to arrive.

"We're gonna get right to sparring, and Gabe is going to monitor everyone," Andy told them. Andy was basically the combat expert for both teams. "Pairs are on the board." Pete looked over at the chalk board standing behind Andy, reading what it said.

**PAIRS:**

**Gerard ----- > Mikey **

**Frank ----- > Joe **

**Andy ----- > Ray **

**Pete ----- > Patrick **

**William ---- > Patrick **

"Uh why am I on there twice?" Patrick asked.

"Double the practice. And it's just random," Andy told him.

"Bring it on little bro!" Gerard shouted. Mikey just smirked as the two went onto the mats. Gerard roasted his fists, but Mikey moved in quickly and jabbed Gerard's stomach, neck, and arms in quick succession. Mikey then wove behind Gerard and kicked behind his knees, knocking him over.

"Mikey wins," Gabe announced.

"I guess that's why he's the Kobra Kid huh?" Gerard groaned. He stood up and clapped his brother on the back. "You strike like a cobra little bro."

"Frank and Joe lets go!" Gabe shouted.

Frank stood in place as Joe stumbled onto the mat. They fought for about two minutes before Joe gained the upper hand and flipped Frank. "Fuck!" He gasped out in pain.

"Joe wins, Andy and Ray go!" Gabe smirked.

"I'm gonna die," Ray muttered.

Andy laughed, "I'll go easy on you." Andy did as he promised, but still beat Ray after three minutes.

"Peterick you're up!" Gabe shouted, smirking.

They walked on, and Patrick grinned, before tackling Pete to the ground. He straddled Pete's chest before punching him in the nose as hard as he could. Pete pushed him off and scrambled to his feet. Patrick kicked his leg out, knocking Pete back to the ground, before standing up and starting to kick him in the stomach. Pete looked into his boyfriend's eyes and they flashed...yellow?

"Patrick wins," Gabe called out, just as Patrick kicked Pete's ribs again. "Ray, I think he needs first aid." Pete nose was bleeding and he pulled his shirt off, revealing large purple bruises starting to form on his ribs.

_The yellow eyes...must've just been a trick of the light..._


	6. The "I" In Lie

"Hey, Patrick, can I talk to you for a second?" Pete asked. Patrick nodded and sat down on their bed. "Why did - why did your eyes flash yellow? It was just the light right?"

"N-No," Patrick whispered. "There was this whole thing that happened that I can hardly remember and I just...it's why I can kill someone so mercilessly and still be all like...cute and cuddly. I-I lied to you last time you asked me about it."

"I've never asked you about it..." Pete trailed off.

Patrick smiled sadly, not looking Pete in the eye. "You have. But...I wiped your memory and you don't remember."

Pete was silent for a minute, running a hand through his short hair. "What makes you...you know."

"Just...needing to kill. Or when I'm angry, like the Hulk," he joked weakly. Pete didn't laugh, so Patrick cleared his throat and continued, "Also certain music triggers it too. Like really loud screaming type music --"

He was cut off, by 'really loud, screaming type music'.

Patrick's eyes went wide, turning yellow, as he glared at Pete, who scrambled out of the room. "TURN IT OFF TURN IT OFF!" Pete shouted, running into the main room. "FRANK SHUT IT OFF!" Pete turned around to see Patrick chasing him with one of the knives he always kept on him. "GUYS HE'S GONNA KILL SOMEONE I'M NOT KIDDING SHUT IT OFF!" He screamed, running into the room, before tripping on the rug, falling flat. Patrick straddled his back, and Pete flipped over, to see Patrick glaring at him, completely murderous. "Patrick please, it's me Pe--" he was cut of by Patrick's blade entering his stomach. Pete gasped, and turned his head to the side, seeing the fluorescent light glint off of...a knife, within arms reach. He grabbed it, and looked at his boyfriend. "I'm so sorry," he whispered weakly, before pushing the knife into Patrick's chest. He gasped, eyes turning back to their normal blue-green color, and looked down at the body of the now dead Pete.

"Petey, oh my god Pete," he gasped, before collapsing onto Pete, as his life drained out of his body --

~

Patrick jolted awake in a small, dark bunk, with a body pressed against his own. Looking down he realized it was Pete, but he had no clue where he was. "Pete," he whispered, shaking the other man. The bleach blonde groaned, and opened his eyes slowly. "Pete where are we?" Patrick called more frantically.

Pete's eyes snapped wide open as he scrambled to sit up next to Patrick. "We're on the tour bus headed to...Los Angeles, I think. Are you okay?" He whispered, wrapping his arms around Patrick.

The strawberry blonde shrugged. "I have no clue. I-I think I just had the weirdest dream. I think it was a dream."

"What was it about?" Pete questioned, placing a lingering kiss on Patrick's temple.

"Well we were these criminals..."

. _end_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was super rush and bad oops

**Author's Note:**

> I may make this a series, so comment if you want more!


End file.
